…not to be impatient, but wtf doctor?!  You said “this baby is definitely coming before his due date” last week.  He now has less than 24 hours to make his appearance in order for this to be true.  Yesterday at our appointment I was put on some form of modified bedrest due to a spike in blood pressure that normally wouldn’t have been a big deal–it was just a big jump for me.  So here I am, at home, with mom, blogging.  I had great ambitions of reading in these last few days, hours, moments but I just fall asleep whenever I open a book and start drooling all over myself.  Its true–my drooling has become a little out of control.  I have no idea why pregnancy is making me drool.  Alas, I’ll just go with it.

Still pregnant–and with my mom at the Botanical Gardens.  This one has us at 39.5 weeks.

Matthei Botanical Gardens on Sunday July 26, 2009 (T-Minus 3 Days from Official Due Date)

Mom has been cooking up a storm for us and doing some really hardcore cleaning in the condo.  She cleaned the kitchen so hard that she blew a fuse on the microwave!  It was fixable but still–yikes.  We now have at least a week’s worth of food in the fridge ranging from Miracle Chicken Tortilla Soup (capitalized because it is that good);  homemade spaghettie sauce that will also make an appearance in a lasagna,  chicken/mushroom casserole, and lentil soup.  Nom nom. BBJ and his parental units have been eating quite well.

So, the waiting game began when my doctor told me last Monday that “before your due date” comment.  Its not so much a game as a test of your sanity.  How many times can you google “mucus plug” “bloody show” and “water breaking” to make sure what’s going on is really whats’ going on or, in my case, what’s NOT going on.  Alas. I’ll tell you what is going on.  Contractions.  The real thing.  But not in any consistent intervals.  Alas. Alas. Alas.

I feel like someone should really clue Fleetwood Mac into the idea that thunder doesn’t always have to happen when its raining (and players may or may not love you when they’re playing).  In either case, I was really counting on this big storm to run amuck in Ann Arbor, Michigan today (like everyone and their grandmother was predicting).  Alas, the storm turned south and hit Ohio.  What a load of crap.  I’m mostly upset at this because more than one person has told me that babies like to come during thunderstorms and, while its an old wives’ tale, I’ll cling to it with reckless optimism.  The audacity of hope!

Last night my mom made us chicken tortilla casserole (yum) with sliced watermelon and a yummy salad.  So good.  So glad not to eat out for dinner.  This morning we’re going up to visit Lars’ Grandma, great-aunt and mom in Brighton.  A good time will be had by all–even if I can’t drink mimosas, yet.

When you are nine plus months pregnant is a GREAT time to purge clothes out of your closets and drawers.  Why?  Because at nine months pregnant you look at those size 8 $15 green shorts you bought at Old Navy last summer whilst stretching the limits of your maternity pants (oh how I will miss you stretchy maternity pants) and think to yourself “no, no, I will never be able to fit into these again”. 

Now, I hope this is not the truth.  I hope I will be able to fit into my shorts and jeans and tops at SOME POINT again.  But if you were looking for the right mentality to purge your closet, nine plus months pregnant and HUGE would be it.  We gave away three bags of goodies to the Salvation Army last night and it felt GREAT. 

Last day of work is tomorrow.  Weeee!!!!!!!!!

The Ann Arbor Art Fair was this past weekend and we went walking around most all of it (except for the section down on Main Street).  Lars’ dad was exhibiting his fish pencil drawings on Maynard/William and we were just looking around.  We actually found a really neat artist, Geoffrey Harris, that we’re still debating on buying something for BBJ’s nursery–but luckily with this new fangled eeeenternet, we can make a decision after the fact.

Here are my 38.5 week photos…rotund!

At the intersection of Liberty & Maynard. Michigan Theatre, Borders #1, State Theatre and the Bell Tower are in the background. BBJ is totally in the foreground--such an attention hog.

Archway into the University of Michigan Law Quad--and Megan @ 38.5 Weeks Pregnant

I realize the above photo has me quite small–this was intentional.  BBJ is going to have to get used to his dad only taking photos of him that use his petite baby-ness to scale things like archways into Law Quads.  At least now I will have someone else to suffer with.

Doctor’s visit yesterday went well.  Doctor says that Vegas odds have me having this baby this weekend….wut?!?  Come out, come out BBJ–we want to meet you!   Also, I will be cursing my doctor’s name when I am a week overdue and miserable due to all this hyped up baby is coming early nonsense!  At least this kicked us into gear to “pack our bags”…

I tell you, really strange dreams lately.  I mean, really.

I’m writing this down now because it gives you a glimpse into my psyche at the moment.  Please continue being my friend(s) even after you read this….

I had a dream that my dad wasn’t going to be able to make it out to visit the new little bambino because he was too busy at his work.  Why was he too busy?  Well, obviously it was because the Jonas Brothers were doing a new underwater repeat performance at a state of the art underwater auditorium at Scripps Oceanography (what budget cuts?) and my dad had to make sure that the show went off okay.  Also–Scripps had a new exhibit where you could swim with the seals, (they were probably displaced from the Children’s Pool down in La Jolla) but they ended up putting a kangaroo into the pool when it was my turn to go in.  W.T.F. Seriously, why would I get in a pool with a seal, let alone a kangaroo!?   What kind of establishment is my subliminal mind running these days?

Baby has been pretty quiet these past few days–but when he moves it is grandiose–like he’s trying to make a point with sweeping gestures.  Or, he’s just (as Leslie so described) mooning me with his big baby butt.   I took him to see Harry Potter yesterday afternoon.  I realized that movie theaters, at 2pm on Thursdays, are filled with single people going to the movies.  Strength in numbers!  There was a young woman who held open the door for me and she said “You look fabulous!  When are you due?”.  I told her and she was like “I’ve been there–especially in the summer, I’ve been there.”  It was very nice.  Truly, no place better to be on a hot summer day at 9 months pregnant than an air conditioned theater; popcorn in hand; watching Harry Potter.

Today we’re going to attempt to walk around Art Fair all throughout downtown Ann Arbor.  Lars’ dad has a booth there this year–selling his fish prints.  I’m also on the look out for necklaces.  Not necklaces of fish prints, though.

We had out 37 Week and 5 Day appointment yesterday (but we’ll call it 38 weeks for fun!).   Last week when my OB checkced me she said I was dilated a finger.  This week she said 3 cm on the outer cervix and 1 cm on the inner cervix (and to think of the shape of dilation as a cone)…it hurt a lot more than I expected it to when she checked yesterday and there was a lot more blood involved, also.  I’m not sure why it happened–if I was tired, if I was scared, if it hurt, if I was overwhelmed–but as soon as she finished checking me I started crying.  Crazy momentum this “giving birth” thing.  Its like, you’re waiting for one of the biggest things to ever happen to you in your life and your husband’s life and, obviously, this child’s life–and you’re just waiting and its kind of painful and there’s blood.  Okay, stream of consciousness is coming into check now.  Anyway–I cried in my doctor’s office and that was kind of embarassing, although she certainly didn’t make me feel that way.  I think, maybe, the weirdest part about it all, was that it came on so suddenly.  One second I’m fine; the next second I can’t control salty tears from pouring down my face.  Big crocodile tears.

What’s that you say?  Hormones?  Oh yeah–I guess we could factor those in, too…

I’m not craving food.  I’m craving thunderstorms. And good music.  Okay I’m craving food a little.  Lime popsicles.  Lucky for me they’re in my freezer.

A song for your listening pleasure.

The Weepies-Can’t Go Back Now

So we’re officially full-term today.  That’s exciting!   BBJ is celebrating, I can tell.  He knows.  That or he’s really really bored and keeps head-banging against my bladder because he’s bored AND angry AND running out of room.  He wants to get out in this world and go kayaking.  Be my guest, buddy.

At our doctor’s appointment on Monday we got “checked” and the doctor told us we were starting to dilate and that she was really pleased with our status of effacement.  She said (and I am holding her to this) “This baby is not going to come this week, but he is not going to go past his due date”.  She said she would not be surprised if he came early.  I will try not to get my hopes up…  He will probably come on opening night of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.  Geeze, where are my priorities?   Of course, the pessimist in me was like “at what point do you induce if this kid doesn’t cooperate” and she told me a week after our due date (Wednesday, August 5th).  She said mainly this was for sanity reasons  (hers, Lars’ and mine own).  Wednesday’s child, after all, is full of woe.  This kid is all about the Wednesdays (my sister and I were both born on Wednesdays, so its in his genes). 

In other news I am slow-moving.  There are these dudes who sit on the corner of Williams & Liberty Street (by Borders No. 1!) and they usually ask people for spare change.  When they see me, they are like “whoa its a baby boom!” or ‘you’re pregnant!”.   I’ll take those comments from the peanut gallery as a compliment..AND they don’t ask me for spare change. 

I have much respect for people who are 9 months pregnant with a toddler around the house because, while I know it will be my day someday, I just cannot imagine taking care of another little creature right now while being this huge.

Oh, MJ.

In other news–I am channeling Michael Phelps in our courtyard pool–except a very tubby Michael Phelps who only semi-knows how to do the breast stroke and can’t seem to go faster than .5 mph. Pregnancy Olympics Here I Come.

It was good. I feel accomplished and totally de-fatigued…although my arms and legs hurt like a mutha. In a good way, though. Not in a pregnant way.

Maybe I should channel Michael Phelps AND Michael Jackson and do the Thriller Dance in my pool while swimming the breast stroke. I think I am onto something…

I wonder what Google Ads will come up as a result of this entry…